Lachmansingh 1Rita LachmansinghProfessor BiakoloIntercultural Communication18 February 2014Passing for NeitherCultural identity defined by Google is, the identity of a group or culture, or of an individual by ones belonging to a group or culture. However, I believe my cultural identity has been greatly influenced by other factors that are not applicable to other individuals belonging to my defined culture. Parts of me including my race, religion, ethnicity, and socio-economic status are essential to who I am today. My cultural identity is constantly changing; it cannot be confined to an affiliation with a certain racial group. I do not belong to a single cultural group, I identify with many because I am multicultural. My cultural identity cannot be discovered from the color of my skin for I am racially ambiguous, rarely do people associate me with West Indian blood after first meeting me. Power has everything to do with how others label me along with how I define my own identity. Focusing on my personal experience as a young woman of color, I will proceed to explicate how power relationships have influenced my cultural identity by referencing theories from Adrian Piper, Peggy McIntosh, and W.E.B Du Bois.I was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota on October 14th, 1993. My parents named me Rita Adair Lachmansingh, a label that encompasses my duality. My redheaded mother, Amy Anderson was born and raised by a traditional American family in Minneapolis, Minnesota and has lived there her whole life. Her ethnicity is 50% Swedish and 50% Norwegian, consequently making me a quarter Swedish and a quarter Norwegian or universally known as half White. My father, Carlo Lachmansingh, was born and raised in Georgetown, Guyana, which is located at the top of South America. Therefore I am a quarter Swedish, a quarter Norwegian, and half Guyanese. However, I more so identify as Guyanese rather than Swedish and Norwegian because I prominently have brown skin. Hardly anyone has heard of Guyana, when I tell people it is in South America they often attempt to categorize me as Latino because of the geographic location. I then have to explain my blood is from India, but the culture in Guyana is distinctly different from India and the surrounding countries in South America. These types of conversations usually lead to me explaining my familys history, which begins with the colonization of Guyana.Many historical texts have not recorded the knowledge I have about Guyana because it embraces the vile side of colonization. During the nineteenth century, the prime of colonization era was the beginning of the indentured labor system in Guyana, formerly known as British Guiana. The British settlers needed a docile, reliable labor source that could withstand the severe tropical conditions because the Slavery Abolition Act banned slavery in 1833. The labor shortage prompted the plantation owners to contract services of indentured servants from India. My great-great grandfather Ramlagan Singh, unaware of his own destiny, was tricked into becoming one of those indentured laborers. After working for many years he established family and wealth in British Guiana, and decided to remain there instead of returning to India as some laborers did. As a result of the British rule, many Indian traditions were lost in attempts to assimilate. The caste system, traditional clothing, and other customs were replaced in effort to become equal to the White men in power, specifically parliament. The British colonization of Guyana created a melting pot of East Indians, Native Amerindians, Asians and Africans as a result of the slavery and indentured laborers. The East Indians redefined their culture, adapting to Caribbean, Asian, and African influence; all while being under British rule. Therefore simply saying I am Indian does not truly embrace or acknowledge the struggles my ancestors went through. My true racial categorization is half Guyanese, a quarter Swedish, and a quarter Norwegian. On the endless official race surveys I rarely get to identify myself as this. Instead of classifying myself as biracial, both West Indian and White, I fall in the Asian category because of my East Indian blood. A label that does not encompasses my racial category, ethnicity or cultural history. The current and past power structures are the reason I cannot rightfully identify when forced to choose one of five racial categories. The past power structures influenced my extended family to assimilate and leave behind their Indian culture for an entirely new culture. While the new power structures prevent me from correctly identifying with the West Indian culture that was a direct result of the East Indian assimilation. Growing up with a White mom and a Guyanese dad was incredibly confusing for me. I was aware I was not White, but also aware that I was not African-American, Asian, or Hispanic. I was taught to embrace both of my parents cultures interchangeably. My sister and I took traditional Indian dance lessons at my fathers Hindu mandir, while simultaneously attending Sunday school at my mothers Lutheran church. As I grew older I began drifting away from the Hindu mandir and towards my mothers church that had a summer camp and a strong youth program. At this age I began to realize I was different. I did not feel comfortable with the White kids at Sunday school, but nor did I with the Guyanese children at the mandir. I did not look like either; the Guyanese children were darker, wore Indian clothes and had thick accents, while the White children grew distant when they found out I occasionally attended a Hindu church. Luckily I was a very social and outgoing child so I eventually found comfort in both. But I constantly felt pressured to conform to one instead of the other. I felt as if I was cheating because I was not fully a part of either. To this day, when I attend the mandir in my American clothing, I feel alienated. I am usually the only female who is not wearing a sari. I do not understand the services, which are in usually in Hindi. I avoided this uncomfortable feeling for a long time, neglecting my fathers feelings. Now that I realize how much my dad values the preservation of the Guyanese community, I have made a conscious effort to attend services with my grandfather and him. I can now openly appreciate my exposure to two very different cultures and religions. For I have embraced values from both, adapting different aspects to my own personal philosophy. I found my own experience of trying to pass for either Guyanese, Black or White similar to the way Adrian Piper speaks about passing in her piece Passing for White, Passing for Black. I believe both of our parents shared the idea that education and achievements would protect us from the obstacles of racism. Therefore my parents have always stressed the importance of an education. Much like Pipers experience, this led to colorism. However, unlike piper I was not always given the opportunity to pass for either. I desperately tried to pass for white as a preteen because of the social pressure I felt to conform and be in with the norm. I performed the White race, by embracing things like music, clothes, and activities my White friends did. But this was never enough; I very clearly had brown skin. I went through a phase in elementary school where I tried to pass for Black as well. I made friends with the Black kids, adopted their slang, and changed the way I dressed to fit in. But because of my mothers American influence they could also tell I was not one of them, for I did not share the same hardships. I got teased for having some distinct White indications in some of my clothing and interests that prevented me from passing as Black. I was not able to pass the suffering test, which led to my experience of colorism. Piper defines colorism as the jealousy and feelings of contempt people of color feel when they discriminate against other people of color. I first experienced colorism when I tried to pass for Black. The first indicator was clearly that I was much lighter than them, but they could also tell by the way I performed my race. I came from an upper-middle class family but attended school in a middle/lower-class neighborhood; therefore the Black kids could easily tell I came from some money. These many markers set us apart; I could never really be apart of their group, even if I had all of the same interests as them. Eventually I began to accept that I could not pass for either. These experiences taught me that race is both physical and social; race is the color of ones skin and how they perform their race based on its face value. Since I am racially ambiguous it has been very difficult to perform my race because I am constantly being perceived differently. From my own personal experience I have seen that certain races are associated with a specific class. As Piper states, Racial classification in this country functions to restrict the distribution of goods, entitlements, and status as narrowly as possible to those whose power is already entrenched Segregated lower-class minority communities do not receive the same resources that all White middle-class communities do (Piper 252). This is because communities resources such as school funding, parks, and garbage clean up are all funded by property tax. Inevitably, poor communities are going to have poor resources and wealthy communities will have the opposite. This is just one small form of institutionalized racism that perpetuates White privilege. Black communities may produce poorly educated children who do not have the money or resources to pursue higher education that can lead to Black stereotypes getting produced and fulfilled. Whites continue to have an advantage because of their entrenched White privilege. Peggy McIntosh defines White privilege as the invisible package of unearned assets that is embedded in institutions and systematic processes experienced by people who identify as White (McIntosh 101). Power structures such as property tax funding schools keep the lower-class racial minority communities at a disadvantage and give the Whites an automatic advantage. White people are associated with higher class while people of color are generally categorized as working class as a direct result of the embedded racism. Being aware that race is both socially constructed and performed, I have learned that classism is deeply rooted in racism. Socio-economic status at face value has a huge influence on how others label you. Face value matters because one must wear their class in order to get recognized. An African-American man wearing a Burberry trench coat and scarf will typically be given more respect than a White man wearing a custodial uniform. This is because money is equated with power in our society. If you have money, it can be assumed you have power. I have been treated drastically different depending on the class I was wearing. I undeniably get more respect, better service, and nicer looks from people when I am wearing my Bose headphones, Coach purse, and am dressed business casual. However, if I roll out of bed without makeup and put on comfortable clothes I am perceived differently by society. I am very conscious of this and take the precautions I have to in order to be taken as seriously as possible. I am guilty of tailoring my appearance to fit our societies social stratification. This is because it is impossible to see yourself as yourself; one cannot rid societal expectations of race. My cultural identity is a combination of how I view myself and how others view me. The color of my skin will inevitably effect my interactions because I am aware of the different ways people will perceive me based on my class and skin color, regardless of my education or personality. W.E.B. Du Bois wrote about this awareness of the perception of how others see you in his piece Double-Consciousness and the Veil that discusses what it means to be American and how that differs from what it means to be Black. Du Bois describes this double consciousness as the acknowledgment of how other people see you, and the inability to rid the acknowledgment that they view you differently (Du Bois 164). I experience this awareness everyday, which is why I tailor my appearance to be respected. My racial ambiguity forces people to judge me on something they can classify, I know they usually judge my class even if it is subconscious. I am stuck with my skin color and I cannot view the world without it. This is what Du Bois calls a veil, as he could not leave his Blackness behind I cannot leave my Guyanese culture behind. Even if I could I would feel as if I was betraying my father and other generations hard work. I cannot go a day without seeing the world through my veil of being a young woman of color. I cannot deny that I have struggled with balancing my dual-ethnicity. However I would not be who I am today without it. With age I have learned that there are power structures in place that constantly pressure people to conform to the white norm. Perhaps the biggest challenge I face considering everything is that society does not accept me to be the educated, poised, young woman of color I am without assuming I was raised or act White. As if it is inconceivable that a multicultural person could embrace their ethnicity and be successful. Hopefully, in time our society will stop associating certain skin colors with certain classes because that inevitably leads to stereotypes whether positive or negative. Until then, I plan to embrace both cultures without fear of discrimination from society and pass as neither White nor Black. I was blessed with an amazing opportunity to attend a semi-prestigious university with a lot of financial support from my parents. I am determined to use my cultured upbringing to influence people around me to be more open-minded about power structures in place that cloud how they view people at face value.

Works CitedDu Bois, William Edward Burghardt. Double-Consciousness and the Veil. Excerpt from The Souls of Black Folk. New York: Bantam, 1889 [1903] pp.163-68 Web. 17 Feb, 2014. McIntosh, Peggy. White Privilege and Male Privilege. A Personal Account of Coming to See Correspondences through Work in Womens Studies (1988). Pp. 95-105 Web 16 Feb. 2014Piper, Adrian. Passing for White, Passing for Black (1991). Published in Transition Issue 58 (1992):4-32. Pp. 235-68 Web. 16 Feb. 2014